


Just One More Look

by MusicalLuna



Category: Psych
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Originally Posted on Psychfic, Romance, sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-06
Updated: 2008-08-06
Packaged: 2019-03-10 22:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13510950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalLuna/pseuds/MusicalLuna
Summary: She likes to look. And who can really blame her?Shules Ficathon '08 entry.





	Just One More Look

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Body
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** Boy do I wish.
> 
> Whee! My first entry. Enjoy guys! :D

She liked to watch him move.

It didn't much matter what he was doing; just about everything he did was enough to make her want to stop and stare. He had such a nice body though—narrow hips, broad shoulders, well-muscled arms and a chiseled jaw line. It was funny how fervently she thought that now, especially considering that when she'd first seen him, he'd seemed plain, hardly worth a second glance unless it was to get another look at that ridiculous spiky hair of his. Somehow between then and now, it seemed his looks had grown on her, until she'd become attached to the point of having trouble even bringing herself to look away.

She loved the way the jeans fell on his hips and conversely, the way they fit his backside. That was half the reason she encouraged him to go when he and Carlton started getting into ridiculous spats. One of those “hate to see him go, but love to watch him leave” kinds of things.

Watching him perform one of his psychic vision dances was another highlight of the job. He stretched and bent, wiggled and waggled his hips, and on the best days, his t-shirt rode up, exposing his stomach and making her fingers itchy just to run along the contours of his muscles and his ribs. Plus, the shapes his mouth formed while in the process of explaining or spouting nonsensical information were often highly alluring. The temptation to just tackle him and kiss him senseless was sometimes difficult to resist.

Her favorite watching-time however had just recently been discovered and she was hooked.

She loved to watch him sleep.

And right now, he was doing just that. She wasn't sure exactly how it had happened because one minute he'd been fluttering around her, looking more worn out than usual, but otherwise his typical chipper self, and the next she'd found him slouched in Carlton's chair, feet propped up on the corner of her desk, fast asleep.

His head tipped to the left ever-so-slightly, features and shoulders slack. His hands lay on his stomach, though they seemed to be slipping a bit and she couldn't help smiling because the slow slide into his current position had pushed up his shirt just a little, exposing a thin, pale stretch of his midsection. She liked the way he bent, legs angling upward a few degrees in order to allow his feet access to the desk. He looked absurdly comfortable.

She hadn't quite decided what it was she liked so much about watching him sleep, but it definitely had something to do with the way his face relaxed, smoothing all of the carefully schooled expressions and silencing the precisely chosen words, leaving nothing behind but honesty.

And, quite frankly, he looked adorable when he passed out like this.

She was sneaking glances at the angle of his cheek, her hand stroking lazy figure eights on his arm when Carlton returned.

“Spencer, what the hell?” he bellowed. Shawn jerked violently, nearly tumbling out of the chair and Juliet threw out a hand, catching him on the chest. Sucking in a sharp gasp, Shawn blinked groggily and then his face pinched as he blinked more firmly.

“Wha...what?” he muttered and Juliet smiled as he rubbed his hands over his eyes in a adorably childish manner. “Lassie?”

“Get the hell out of my chair, Spencer!” Lassiter barked, smacking the back of the chair.

Shawn shook his head, still blinking furiously to try and bring himself a little bit further into the land of the living. “Okay, okay, take a chill pill Lassie...” He pushed to his feet and Lassiter immediately snatched the chair away, glowering.

“Go home, Spencer. Stop taking naps in the middle of the station,” he ordered peevishly.

“Fine, fine,” Shawn muttered, and he must have been tired because he put up no further protest, bending to kiss her on the cheek and saying, “Have a good day, okay Jules?”

She ran her fingers through the hair above his ear a few times and smiled when his eyes slipped closed in response. “Are you going to be okay to get home?”

“Oh sure,” he waved a hand. “I'll be fine. Love you.”

She smiled and kissed him softly on the lips. “Love you too.”

Behind them Lassiter made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat and said, “God, can you move the sickening displays of affection somewhere _else?_ ”

“Jealousy is unbecoming Lassie,” Shawn said and then, after stealing one last kiss, turned and headed out of the station. Juliet watched him go, admiring the sway of his hips until he had disappeared into the crowded station. She then turned a glare on Lassiter and smacked him on the arm.

“Carlton!”

“Ow! What? It's unprofessional and he knows it,” he said, slapping down a file on his desk irritably.

“Yes, he does. And if he were coherent I'm sure he would have—” She stopped mid-sentence at the look he gave her. “Oh fine. He wouldn't have cared. Why did you have to wake him anyway? He hasn't been sleeping well recently. He needed the rest.”

Carlton frowned. “How do you know he hasn't— No. You know what? I don't want to know.” He turned decisively back toward his desk.

She rolled her eyes. “Calm down, Carlton. It's not like _that._ He calls me late at night when he can't sleep.”

“Is that why you've been all... _droopy_ this week?”

“I have not been _droopy,_ ” Juliet retorted, miffed at the implication.

“Oh, you've definitely been droopy,” Carlton said eyebrows rising.

“I have no—”

A cough interrupted the argument before it could really get out of hand.

“What?” they snapped in unison as they both turned to see Buzz McNabb standing there. Juliet sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. Maybe she was a little tired.

“What did you need, Buzz?”

“I was asked to give this to you,” he said and held out a folded sheet of paper.

“Thank you. Who gave it—” The question became superfluous when she saw the handwriting and she smiled.

She flipped it open, read the few lines there, and chuckled.

“What?” Lassiter asked. “What is it?”

She just shook her head and returned to her desk, tucking the note into her purse. “You don't want to know, Carlton.”

It took him a moment to process her smug tone in conjunction with the words she'd said.

“Oh. Ohhh.” His face twisted into disgust and he pushed his chair back to his desk muttering something about 'definitely unprofessional'.

Juliet hummed softly as she returned to the file she'd been looking at before Shawn had distracted her.

Until of course her mind strayed to the note and the person who'd penned it.

Leaning back in her chair, she let her eyes close and her mind wander, a small smile playing on her lips.

And because she _had_ been a little droopy all week Carlton didn't immediately wake her up a few minutes later when he realized she'd fallen asleep.

If the psychic wasn't going to let her sleep, it was the least _he_ could do.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Real Beginning](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13510953) by [MusicalLuna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalLuna/pseuds/MusicalLuna)




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